The police station, located inside City Hall, was fairly new—built less than ten years ago, I was pretty sure. A mixture of red brick, gray stone, and a textured white stone covered the large building, with a domed top in the middle of an otherwise flat roof and floor-to-ceiling windows in the front, on either side of the double entrance doors, and on the sides of the structure.
When we walked through the doors, a loud ringing began. A large, bearded police officer who looked like he could crush me with one squeeze stopped us.
“Empty your pockets,” he ordered.
I had only my wallet and phone, but Jeff had his wallet, phone, keys, a folded piece of paper, and his class ring. He always wore that thing, so it surprised me to see it off his finger.
Once the officer confirmed we weren’t carr
